


Cadence

by owlmoose



Category: Dragon Age, Dragon Age II
Genre: F/M, Reunions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-31
Updated: 2012-08-31
Packaged: 2017-11-13 05:53:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/500215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/owlmoose/pseuds/owlmoose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fenris and Marissa Hawke reunite after three long years.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cadence

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Symphony in C](https://archiveofourown.org/works/326869) by [owlmoose](https://archiveofourown.org/users/owlmoose/pseuds/owlmoose). 



> Written for Fenris Porn Week on Tumblr. Set within the Symphony in C continuity.

"If there is a future to be had, I will walk into it gladly at your side."

Fenris leaned close to Hawke, his hand came around the back of her head, and he touched his mouth to hers, and it was, indeed, as though it had been only yesterday. The barrier they had built between them shattered, exploding into shards around them as he drew her to her feet, his other hand settling on her back. Hawke wrapped her arms around him and pulled him tight; his lips parted and so did hers, his warm breath filling her mouth, and then his tongue slid inside, hungry, searching. She moaned with pleasure, with desire, with relief, and he crushed her against his chest.

There was no question of what would happen next. She brought her hands to his sides to undo the buckles of his breastplate while he loosed the laces of her robe, swift and sure, as though he had done it a thousand times before. The breastplate fell to the ground with a clatter, and she skimmed her hands over his stomach, tracing his markings on their way up his chest and his neck to frame his face, her thumbs resting on his cheekbones and her fingers slipping into his smooth hair. All the while, she kept kissing him, could not break away: she needed to taste him, to draw his tongue inside her mouth, to worry at his lower lip with her teeth. Her robe slipped off her shoulder, and his hand ran over her bare skin, gripping her upper arm; she brought a hand over his ear and caressed the tip, and he gasped, hard. 

He let go of her just long enough to remove his gauntlets, and then he was back, mouth fastened on hers as he pushed her robe off the rest of the way. "Hawke," he murmured, and his lips slid over her cheek, trailing kisses over her jaw and then fastening on her neck, working against her fragile skin, right over her racing pulse. Meanwhile, his hands undid her breast band, as soon as it fell, they came around to cup her breasts, take their weight. Hawke pushed into his palms, felt the rough pads of his fingertips brush over her nipples, lightly at first, then harder, drawing tight circles that sent darts of pleasure and need racing down her belly and into her center. The pleasant ache of wanting drove her to lift her hips, grind them into his groin, rubbing against his already-hard cock; his groan rattled her collarbone, and she took that as a signal to open the laces of his pants. 

They fell to join the breastplate on the floor, and Hawke and Fenris took a few steps backwards, Hawke prying off her shoes with her toes as she did so, and then they were up against the wall, the smooth wallpaper cool against her bare back. Their mouths joined again, and Fenris buried one hand in her hair, and the other tugged at her smallclothes; she wriggled enough to let them fall free as he removed his own, and then they were naked, gloriously so, skin pressed against skin, her hand following the lyrium scars down his back before landing on his ass, curving around the muscles and squeezing. She was sopping wet, knew it even before his finger pressed against her clit, gliding over it with ease before slipping up inside her; she spasmed around him with a cry of relief -- it had been so long, too long, since she had felt him there, and he stroked her, her hips lifting in mindless response.

Too soon, not soon enough, Fenris pulled away and met her eyes, his bright with wanting her. "Hawke--"

She responded by taking his mouth in hers, then by lifting a leg to spread her thighs and wrapping a hand around his cock; it was hard beneath her touch, the skin taut, the tip damp, and his groan shook her to her toes. Tilting her hips to open herself further, she placed the head against her clit and stroked herself with him; his response was somewhere between a laugh and a sob, his hands tightening on her shoulders, fingernails digging into her skin. Then she shifted, bringing him inside of her with a long, shuddering sigh, and he moaned her name, his arms clamping against her sides to hold her up, her arms around his shoulders and one leg tight around his waist. He thrusted, up and in, pressing her against the wall, his pelvis grinding on her clit, she was already so, so close, and she bit her lip, leaning her head backwards. "Fen--"

He buried his face in the hollow of her neck and nipped at her skin as he pushed even deeper, and those sensations paired pushed her over the edge, suddenly and without warning: the pleasure was coursing through her, hot blood rushing just beneath her skin, her whole body shuddering, thrusting back against him. He gasped, and grunted, and then shouted something incoherent. His whole body slammed into hers, pushing her against the wall so tightly that she could barely breathe, then relaxed all at once. She let her leg fall and he slipped out, and now they were just standing together, embracing, letting the wall hold them up as they caught their breath.

After a moment, they parted, legs still shaky, and Hawke lowered herself to the floor. Fenris followed and sat next to her, not touching but still close together. He leaned his head back against the wall, eyes closed, sweaty hair falling into his face, and Hawke resisted the urge to brush it back. Then he turned to look at her, eyes open, with the same tender longing she had seen in the Hanged Man yesterday.

"Hawke," he whispered, and he reached for her, cupping her cheek in his fingers; she leaned into his touch and smiled.

"Not going anywhere, I trust," she said.

Fenris shook his head. "Never. Never again. My place is with you." He looked down, then up, and she saw him swallow, hard. "I-- I love--"

Once again she stopped his words with a kiss, a very different kind of kiss, this one slow, languid, her lips caressing his, one hand curving around his neck and lower jaw, the other resting on his chest, fingers curing backwards as if to take his heart in her palm and hold it safe. She could not respond in kind, not yet, not when everyone she had ever said those words to was dead, or otherwise lost to her forever. But she kissed Fenris and pulled him tight to show him, instead: it was him, only him. It would never be anyone but him. When she had finished, she pulled him tight and rested her cheek against his, and from the slow stroke of his hand up and down her back, she thought he understood.


End file.
